


Ashes and Oceans

by SimonLeeFinch



Category: Magience
Genre: Adventure, Angst, Fantasy, Friendship, M/M, Virtual Reality, this sounds like the premise for an anime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-23
Updated: 2016-07-08
Packaged: 2018-05-22 21:22:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6094387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SimonLeeFinch/pseuds/SimonLeeFinch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shiloh Fenix begins his journey into the virtual-reality fantasy game of Magience. Nothing can prepare him for just how deep the rabbit hole goes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginnings

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I have completely revamped what I have so far of this, so even if you've read it, please give it a re-read! I've worked very hard on it. Thanks!

It was my first time playing Magience. I’d gotten the game as a thank-you gift from a family friend, but I had no idea how these virtual-reality games worked. I’d put the headset on, switched the knob into the ‘sleep’ position, and laid down to see if it was as good as it sounded. That’s all I could remember.

 

Getting into the game… wasn't quite like waking up. One minute I was in bed, and the next I was standing in a meadow dotted with flowers I didn't recognize. A ring of thick forestry surrounded me, the sun dappling the soft grass beneath with liquid gold through the trees.

 

“Holy shit.”

 

“Would you like a moment?” There was an oddly gender-neutral voice behind me, and I whirled around to see a being that wasn't quite corporeal. They looked a lot like a moving glass statue. With no face.

 

“Uh.” was the most intelligent reply I could give. I had literally hit the pinnacle of excellent social performance; scholars everywhere would be jealous.

 

The being didn't seem surprised or bothered by my amazing conversational skills, and waited patiently. When I gave no further input, they continued. “I am a creative assistant. I am here to help you create your character.”

 

That immediately shook me out of whatever spell I was under. Character customization? They were practically magic words. This was my favorite part of any game,  _ ever _ .

 

“Oh, right! Cool. How do we...?” I asked, gesturing vaguely to nothing. Despite this, the assistant seemed to understand. They waved an arm, and a gelatinous figure identical to myself appeared.

 

Except, you know, it was  _ naked _ .

 

“JESUS.” I didn't even bother to cover my eyes, instead scrutinizing just how detailed this jelly clone was. Needless to say, it was pretty detailed. “Man. Talk about bizarre.” I mumbled, reaching out and poking the figure in the stomach. The gel rippled. “Sweet.” I hummed, rocking back on my heels.

 

“You get one character to play and explore with. It is generally advised that you spend enough time on character creation to be completely certain of your design. Time passes differently here than in the real world, so there is no need to hurry.” The creative assistant said, ever the patient observer.

 

These were exactly the words I needed to hear.

 

-

  
  


I had no idea how much time had passed, but when I was finally finished, the sun was setting and the clouds were tinged with a blinding pink.

 

The figure before me was drastically different from myself in appearance. They were much thinner, with darker hair cut into a short, shaggy mess. Their skin was brown, and their eyes were a striking shade of violet. A pink gem was embedded in their forehead, and fluffy white wings sprouted from their back, the primary feathers faded to a pale purple. A long tail with a tuft of black fur at the end grew from their backside.

 

In other words, it was anime and cute as fuck. “So now what?” I asked, turning to face the creative assistant. I'm not sure what I was expecting, but it sure as hell wasn't to be pushed into my character, and subsequently, into a bottomless pit that'd appeared out of seemingly nowhere.

 

“Now, we play!” The assistant chirped, just as dark silence overtook all of my senses.

 

-

 

This time, it  _ was _ like waking up.

 

Shiloh's brain felt foggy, and whatever he was laying on wasn't very comfortable. After brief deliberation, he cracked his eyes open and pushed himself up to take a look around.

 

He was in some kind of jail cell, lying on what was essentially a pile of hay with a dirty blanket draped over it. The uneven stone floor was covered in grime and other unidentifiable things, and the air was stale and heavy with dust.

 

“Shit, did I miss the part about this being an Elder Scrolls game?” He grumbled, reaching up to rub at his itching eyes. It was an awkward task, because there was a heavy pair of manacles around his wrists. He couldn't remember if the Creative Assistant had mentioned anything about his backstory, or if he'd get any explanation as to what his was. From the looks of things, though, he was on his own.

 

He was unsure of what he was supposed to do; there was no obvious way out. Should he have been looking for something to pick the lock on the door with?

 

He didn't have to think about it for too long, because moments after the question entered his head, a pair of angry looking guards appeared at the cell door. “So, you decided to finally wake up?” One of them asked, giving him a disdainful glare.

 

_ 'God dammit.' _ , he thought, _ 'I got one of those stupid criminal back-stories, didn't I?'  _ He decided to play completely stupid. Because, hey, he technically wasn't lying. “Uh, what?” He asked, making sure to look as confused as possible. His mind was racing and his heart felt like it would leap out of his chest; even if he knew he hadn’t done anything, there was a certain natural reaction that came with being caged and faced with potential enemies.

 

One of the guards squinted at him in obvious suspicion. “You've been out for a week. You're lucky we've kept you alive that long. Or unlucky, because now you have to suffer the consequences of what you've done.” There was something absolutely scathing in the guy's voice, and it didn't match up with his otherwise angelic visage.

 

“I have no idea what you're talking about. I just woke up here. Why am I in jail?” The questions tumbled from Shiloh's mouth, and for a minute he was genuinely scared; He was aware it was just a game, but he couldn't shake the way these guys were looking at him. It felt too real, like the dryness in his mouth and the cold of the metal against his wrists.

 

They exchanged a glance, and whispered to each-other before sparing him one last look. They didn't say anything more before they disappeared.

 

_ 'What the hell was that about?' _ Shiloh's head was still foggy, and he briefly considered taking a nap. After some deliberation, though, he decided it wouldn't be worth it, and he made an attempt at standing. It took a few tries, but he eventually made it to his feet and stepped away from the makeshift bed. He was in the process of trying to find some kind of lock-pick when footsteps echoed down the hall towards his cell. 

 

He froze, moving quickly and pretending to study the manacle clasped around his left wrist.

 

“Shiloh! Thank Aelovis, you’re awake. What’s happened? The guards were so distracted I was able to sneak past them.” The man who’d approached his cell was about half a foot taller than him, with black hair and green eyes that looked somewhat familiar.

 

“I.. I don’t know? Do you know me? Who are you?” Shiloh crept closer to the bars, belatedly realizing that tact wasn’t his strong point. The man looked as if he’d been struck.

 

“You… you don’t know who I am?” He asked, valiantly trying to hide the grief creeping into his voice. Shiloh immediately felt guilty. 

 

“I’m sorry. I don’t remember  _ anything _ . I don’t know why I’m here.” He wrapped his hands around the bars, trying to convey his earnestness with his eyes and voice alone. It seemed to placate the man a little, his eyes narrowing in thought. His hand raised as if to reach for Shiloh, but it stopped mid-way and fell. 

 

“No.. No, perhaps things are better this way. They can’t e..e-execute you if you’re a sleeper.

I don’t believe for a second you did what they believe you to have done. I raised you better than that. They can’t keep you this way. They’ll have to let you go. Shiloh, please--” Whatever the man -- his father? -- was going to say was interrupted as the guards returned, shadowed by yet another man. He held the air of importance usually found among kings and politicians, though he didn’t dress extravagantly.

 

“Arnor Fenix. You’re prohibited from visiting the prisoner. It is from sympathy alone that I don’t lock you up this instance. Your child is a criminal. Leave before I reconsider.” He said, and while his voice sounded calm, there was a barely-contained hint of fury lacing his tone. The man, Arnor, gave Shiloh a last lingering glance, tinged with a mixture of grief and hope, before quickly making his way out of the dungeons. Of course, this only lead to the new man turning his attention on Shiloh.

  
  


“How much do you remember?” He demanded, and Shiloh had to pause for a moment. “I don't remember anything. I just woke up here. All I know is my name. I think? Is my name Shiloh?” He couldn't seem too certain about anything. This just looked to make the three of them more nervous, and they all started whispering to each other. Shiloh wished he knew what they were saying, but he didn't dare step closer. He caught snatches of it, but not enough to know what they intended to do with him.

 

“...a sleeper, he could be lying..”

 

“...can tell, all we have to do is...”

 

“...still going to have to be punished, we can't just let it go...”

 

“...banishing him seems to be...”

 

_ 'What did I  _ **_do_ ** _?' _ Shiloh wondered,  _ 'Or, I guess, what back-story was generated for me? Did I kill the pope? Okay probably not. I hope not. I hope I did not kill the pope.' _

 

He was still in the middle of fretting when The Important Guy addressed him.

 

“Shiloh. If you truly remember nothing, then you will have no problem with us testing that?” He asked, and Shiloh eyed him skeptically before shrugging. “I suppose not.” He answered carefully, and stepped forward when he was beckoned closer. The man reached out and touched Shiloh's forehead, and the beads around his wrist glowed. Shiloh almost jerked away, but held fast. There was a tickling sensation in the back of his head, like water, before the man pulled away.

 

“He is telling the truth.” He said, looking to both of the guards. They continued murmuring, before he silenced them.

 

“Shiloh Fenix, you cannot be pardoned for your previous transgressions, whether or not you really are a Sleeper. However, your sentence will be altered in light of recent events. You are an extremely lucky young man. You’re fortunate that I was the Councilman assigned to you, others would not have been so understanding.” The councilman said, a deep frown marring his face. He seemed heavily troubled by something, though Shiloh couldn’t imagine what.

 

“You should take this opportunity for what it is. It is only possible that it is a gift from those above us. Do not waste it.” The councilman said, before turning. “There will be a ceremony in two hours. You will be publicly branded, and then banished from this village. You are not to return under any circumstances. Do I make myself clear?” He asked, glancing back at Shiloh with the air of a man who had been denied vengeance.

 

“Crystal, sir.” Shiloh murmured, bowing his head slightly. He had no idea what he had done, but it couldn't have been anything good.

  
  


–

  
  


There was nothing to do for two hours, and the guards came back to find Shiloh doodling on the floor with a soft rock he'd found. He quickly tossed it away from himself and stood to attention when the cell was opened. One of the guards stepped forward to lock a chain to Shiloh's cuffs, a conflicted look on his face. “You are to make no attempt at escape. The ceremony will take place, and you will leave. Do not,” he yanked on the chain, causing Shiloh to stumble forwards, “return.” Uh oh. He was growling. Shiloh nodded, jerkily.

 

He had no idea where they were going, but the guards lead him through several halls and up many flights of stairs until they made it out of the dungeons. The sunlight was blinding. There was automatically an angry ruckus, and Shiloh realized, once his eyes adjusted, that there was a mob of people, mostly Aethen, surrounding a round marble pedestal.

 

They all looked really pissed. And distraught.

 

The guard who'd previously been pulling him unhooked the chain from his shackles, and shoved him towards the pedestal. The councilman from before was standing before it, and ushered him up onto it before speaking.

 

“Today we bear witness the death of an evil soul, replaced with the birth of opportunity. The individual before you all is a Sleeper; as such, he cannot be punished properly for the sins of his past. Instead, he will be marked. Everyone he meets will know the severity of what he has done, and he will never again set foot on home soil.”

 

The noise from the crowd became louder, conflicted; Shiloh felt dizzy, and he could hear a mixture of outrage and sadness. He didn't get much time to dwell on it before the councilman was chanting in a language Shiloh didn't recognize, and the pedestal he was standing on lit up with sigils, nearly scaring him out of his skin. No time passed before he felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. He fell to his knees, landing hard against the marble. The absence of pain was strange, but there was still a very uncomfortable pressure. Almost like pain, but not quite. He could feel another sensation spreading across every inch of his skin.

 

The closest thing he could liken to it was when he'd held something ice cold for too long. It almost burned, but didn't.

 

Needless to say, it was extremely uncomfortable, and he watch in dazed wonder as pink markings, the same color as his forehead gem, began forming over his skin. He could feel his wings shrinking, and his tail shortened until it was no longer visible. His wings, luckily, did not disappear, but they were now completely useless.

 

He felt exhausted when the councilman finally went quiet and looked at him in bemusement. “This condition is reversible only in short turns. It will be painful for you, but not impossible.” He said, and Shiloh nodded numbly. He could barely even consider the meaning of that before he was being hauled off of the pedestal, forced to stumble away from the crowd. Someone threw a heavy-looking stone at him, and one of the guards at his back deflected it.

 

He couldn't find any words to express his thoughts, so he remained silent until they arrived at a pair of gates. They were opened, and Shiloh's shackles were removed before he was shoved. “Leave.” The guard said simply, though there was something sad in his gaze. Shiloh shuffled awkwardly. “Thanks. For, um, not letting that rock hit me.” He muttered, rubbing at his wrist. The guard huffed a little, muttered something vague, and turned away. 

 

Shiloh was about to head through the open gates when a voice stopped him. “Wait! Shiloh, wait.” Arnor was there, catching his breath and somehow still managing to stare down the guard until he stepped away.

 

“Promise me you’ll write. I know you don’t… know me, but it would greatly comfort me if you did. You may be a sleeper, but you’re still my son.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, holding it out. “Here. I wrote my name down so you won’t forget.” His expression was so open and earnest that Shiloh couldn’t have denied him if he’d wanted to.

 

“Yeah.. yeah, of course. I’ll write you. It might be a while, though.. I don’t really know where I’m supposed to go from here.” He murmured, rubbing sheepishly at the back of his neck and pocketing the piece of paper. Arnor looked thoughtful, before setting his eyes on the horizon. “Once you get to the bottom and the path ends, keep going straight. There’s a village out that way called Barrien. It’s small, but there’s an inn. Write me as soon as you arrive. Here, I’ll give you some money.” He reached into his pocket once more, withdrawing a few coins and holding them out.

 

Shiloh took them gratefully and stowed them with the paper, before heaving a deep sigh. “Right. It’s going to be a long night. I’ll… I’ll see you later, I guess. Er. Bye. Arnor.” He didn’t miss the flinch that the name caused, but he did his best to ignore it, turning and heading out of the gate. It closed behind him almost immediately.

 

A feeling of heartbreak and loneliness that didn't feel entirely like his own settled in, and he turned away from the town and headed out across the long, winding dirt road.

 

What an awful way to start the game.

 


	2. Descent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Do you know that little voice that tells you to shut up before you do something stupid? Yeah, those don't exist here.

Shiloh had no idea how long it took him to reach the bottom of the mountains, but the sun was close to setting and he felt like he might freeze to death if he didn't get somewhere warmer. Unfortunately, the snowy woods he now found himself in stretched on as far as he could see.

 

“This is dumb.” He muttered aloud, mostly to hear his own voice. It was different than the one he had in the real world; lower, and slightly rougher. He couldn't say he was displeased with it. It would take a while to get used to, either way, and he continued muttering to himself under his breath until he’d acclimated.

  
  


He kept walking towards the setting sun, glad for the cloak he was wearing despite the thinness of the material. He tugged it closer around himself as he continued onwards, the trees slowly starting to blend in with their surroundings as the sun finally set. He realize this wasn't the best situation to be in; alone, at night, stuck in the middle of expansive icy woods that probably went on for miles. But he obviously couldn't go back to the village, so he kept walking, ears open for any noises that weren't his.

 

It felt like hours before the already sparse trees started thinning out, the night bringing a sharper cold with it that cut right through Shiloh's pathetic excuse for a cloak. He could no longer feel his fingers or ears or face, and he wondered briefly if it was possible to freeze to death in this game. He didn't want to find out – respawn or not, that sounded extremely unpleasant.

 

Unfortunately, when the trees finally ended, it was a clearing that greeted him. It was completely empty. He felt his heart sink a little – he was hoping there'd be something. Anything. This game was really badly designed if he couldn't even reach a town after being kicked out of a village because of his back story. What  _ was  _ his back story anyways? What in the world did he do to make all those people so angry? Did he try to summon their version of Satan? He didn't get it.

 

He kicked angrily at a rock, regretting it immediately when it turned out to be rooted in the ground. After a few intense minutes of hopping up and down on one foot and cursing the rock – and all of it's possible descendants – he dropped to sit on top of it with a groan.  _ 'I'm going to die out here. Nobody will find my body. There isn't even a statue of Fate or anything.'  _ He remembered the Creative Assistant mentioning them, but he hadn't seen a single one. How was he supposed to respawn if he didn't find one?

 

Shiloh had barely started into an existential crisis when he noticed a light coming from the woods that he hadn't yet journeyed into. He prayed to whatever God his people believed in that it was a house. With renewed hope, he got up off of the rock and headed towards it. It felt like the farther he went, the farther away the light got, but eventually he did come across what looked like an abandoned cottage. It was missing part of one wall, but there was a light coming from inside. He carefully peeked through one of the windows, just in case there were bandits hiding out in it or something. Hey – you never know!

 

There were no bandits. The light was coming from a lit hearth, though there was a dimmer light coming out of a chest that was stationed next to it. Shiloh took a good look around the cottage, checking to see if there was anyone inside. Was this a trap? It didn’t seem like it, but even if it was, what would he even be looking for? He steeled himself and climbed over the broken wall, cautiously, silently making his way to the chest. It was probably stealing -- no, who was he kidding, it  _ was  _ stealing -- but  _ anything  _ would be a help, at this point.

 

He successfully made it to the chest, throwing it open. The light that came out was blinding for a brief moment, but died down. Inside was a scroll, and some assorted objects he couldn’t readily identify, but looked useful. “Oh thank God.” He muttered, dropping to his knees to root through the chest. He read the scroll first – a spell to summon a Light Orb. It was set to a weird purple color, but he still practiced summoning it. Purple light was better than no light.

  
  


About an hour later, Shiloh had nearly mastered conjuring the orb, and decided to focus on getting more wood for the fire. The hearth had been well stocked, but was beginning to dwindle. He got up and ventured outside to collect some firewood. It was difficult, because most of the wood was soaked through from melting snow. He managed to find some, though, and took it back to the cottage to – hopefully – revive the fire.

 

It took a while, and a lot of stubbornness on Shiloh’s part, but he managed to get the wood to catch a flame and huddled close to the hearth. Soon enough, the feeling returned to his fingers and nose, and he felt a little less like he was about to turn into a really attractive ice sculpture. “Looks like Shiloh's gonna survive another night.” He murmured to himself, the heat making him drowsy. He  _ had  _ walked for a really long time… Maybe this place really was abandoned and he could sleep undisturbed.

 

He took his cloak off, moving to gather the softest objects he could find and created a makeshift bed on the ground. After some careful re-arranging, he curled up on top of it and pulled his cloak up to use as a blanket. Maybe tomorrow he would be able to find a town, and get some new gear and something to eat.

 

As if in agreement, his stomach growled hideously. “Yeah, yeah, shut up.” He yawned, watching the fire until sleep came to him.

  
-  
  


Shiloh wasn't sure how long he had been out or what woke him up, but when his eyes opened, blinding sunlight bounced off of the snow outside and disoriented him. “Wha–?” He started, trying to sit up, but found a measurable pressure on his chest. It increased, and suddenly a looming figure came into view.

 

“Would you look at this! Sleeping beauty's finally awake! What's a pretty boy like you doing in a place like this?”

 

It took Shiloh nearly a full minute to realize the red-headed guy was talking to  _ him _ , and the reason he couldn't move was because his weak ass was pinned to the floor under the stranger's boot. The man looked like a yokai, but Shiloh couldn't really be sure. Most of the guy's weight was pressed onto the foot currently holding him down so he could lean in and get a closer look at him. The aethen winced, hearing his ribs creak and feeling his wings dig into the floor below him. “Oh, y'know, just waiting on prince charming to come and save me from this icy hell-hole. I see my prayers were completely ignored.” He wheezed dryly, slowly becoming aware that his new friend wasn’t alone. There was another, taller male standing near the broken wall of  _ his  _ hideout,

 

His comment did  _ not _ seem to win him any brownie points, and the pressure increased a lot for a brief moment. Shiloh choked, barely catching his breath when the guy backed off, only to find himself lifted up from the ground by the guy's 'friend'. “Ugh. Daine, get this brat out of here. I'm going to look and see if there's anything good stashed in this place.” The guy growled, throwing a hand up in dismissal. Shiloh found himself marveling at how stereotypically goonish these guys were.

 

Daine, the one holding him, rose a brow. “When you say ‘get him out of here’’, what exactly do you mean by that, Lauer?” He asked, watching as Lauer moved to open the chest. Shiloh growled. “Hey! Back off from the chest!” he yelled, coughing once before regaining his breath, “I found it first! Not yours,  _ mine _ !” He pulled at the hand fisted in his shirt, kicking at the guy holding him up. It didn't seem to do much good.

 

“I don’t care what you do. Just get rid of him! I don't have time for smart-mouthed runts. Besides, he's seen our faces.” Laure called back, completely ignoring the loud-mouthed aethen. ' _ What the--? How rude.'  _ Shiloh thought.

 

He didn't get long to dwell on his own indignance, as the unfamiliar sensation of literally being carried by his shirt out of the cottage and into the woods took over. “Wait a sec, what're you gonna do with me? I didn't even do anything to you guys! Come on, maybe we can work something out, I know a –” whatever lie was about to come out of his mouth was cut short as he was literally thrown into the back of a windowless carriage. He landed hard against the wood, air leaving his lungs as the only door slammed shut behind him with an audible click.

 

“Laure probably wanted me to just toss you in a ditch, but I think I can probably get a pretty penny selling you to a noble or somethin'. Not every day we come across an exiled Aethen. I'm sure you're a delicacy somewhere.” Daine's grin was unexpectedly nasty and Shiloh felt a chill run up his spine.  _ 'Woah. That's pretty dark. The fact that he's ever even heard of a penny mean's he's a player, too.' _ he marveled.

 

“What? You can't do that! You can't just sell people! Isn't there like, anti-aethen-trafficking laws in this world or something?!” He asked, moving to lean on the door so he could look out the tiny opening. The guy just grinned back at him, leaning in close to the window.

 

“Guess you'll find out when we get to Oreia, won't you?” He asked, before some kind of cloth fell in front of the window. The inside of the carriage was drenched in darkness. Shiloh could feel his stomach start tying itself into knots, his backside hitting the floor below before he leaned his forehead against the door. “I knew I shoulda just kept moving last night...” He lamented, his nose and eyes burning as the fear rose in his gut. He didn't remember the last time he'd felt this helpless, not even in the real world, and it was all he could focus on. He had no weapons and no friends. ' _ What am I going to do?' _

 

At some point, the group all finished scouring the cottage for loot, and Shiloh could feel them piling into the front compartment of the carriage before they suddenly lurched forward and he once again found himself thrown to the ground. “God dam-- er, shit.” He caught himself, groaning out a slightly less severe swear and squinting against the darkness. He literally couldn't see anything, and he slowly backed himself up against a wall and curled in close to himself in preparation for what was probably going to be a long ride.

 

There was conversation coming from the other side of the wall to his right, and he tried to listen, but it was fuzzy at best. Something about a cult and a temple with a name Shiloh couldn't pronounce, much less spell. The voices sounded serious, but he couldn't make out much more because they'd suddenly quieted down. He wasn't sure why, and decided rather quickly that he didn't care. Whenever they got to wherever they were going, he was gonna escape.

  
-

 

He must have fallen asleep, because he woke up to the feeling of the carriage coming to an abrupt halt. There was a lot of arguing going on, some sounds that were obviously metal hitting flesh, and a lot of angry noises. Shiloh was in the middle of trying to eavesdrop when the door was suddenly yanked open, and Laure reached in and yanked him out.

 

“Don’t say a word, runt. We’re setting up camp here and if I hear any complaints out of you, you’re going back in the wagon. Capiche?” He asked, leaning in close. Shiloh winced at the smell of his breath, but nodded. “Not a word, got it.” He said, heaving in a breath of fresh air when he was set down. His freedom was brief, though, ended once Laure spun him around and tied his wrists behind him. He did nothing to hide his aggravated sigh, which was ignored.

 

Laure signalled to a rather tall, dark-haired basir girl who was leant over a monster carcass, cutting off pieces and stowing them in her Pocket. She glanced up at the sound, before quickly vanishing her knife and stalking over. “Yes, Laure?” She asked, sparing Shiloh little more than an uninterested glance. 

 

“I need you to go with Lizard and find some fresh water and firewood. We’re going to stay the night here.” There was something pointed in his words, which the girl seemed to catch. “Consider it done.” She said, before turning and gathering the only other girl in the group. Another youkai, though she was very small with wild auburn hair. She seemed excited at the prospect of exploring, bounding off into the forest with the other girl on her heels. That meant it was only Shiloh, Laure, and Daine, who was currently watching them with an unreadable expression. 

 

“Go sit on that log over there. If you move from that spot, I’ll cut you down. The only reason you still stand and breathe is because Daine thinks you’re worth something.” Laure said, making sure Shiloh sat before heading to the other side of the camp and setting up a place for the fire. ‘ _ It’s a shame he‘s an asshole,’  _ Shiloh mused, _ ‘He’d be pretty if he wasn’t.’ _

 

“You really trust Caila and Lizard to come back before sundown?” Daine asked, pausing from his work of skinning something that was unreasonably furry. Laure shook his head. “No. That’s the point. We’re going to have a little chat with your new prize.” He said, causing a shiver to run down Shiloh’s spine. There was something a little too calculating in his gaze when he sat down opposite Shiloh, crossing one leg over the other.

 

“Talk, kid. Where’d you come from? That little village up the mountain to the east?” He asked, getting straight to the point. “What do you know about the incident involving Fate’s temple?” His questions were making Shiloh’s head spin with a mixture of confusion and his newly awakened hunger. 

 

“I-I don’t really know. I literally  _ just  _ started playing. If anything happened, I logged in afterwards. I was kicked out almost instantly.” He said, willing them to believe him. Laure’s eyes darkened and he frowned. Daine, meanwhile, nearly dropped his skinning knife. “You have  _ got  _ to be kidding me. I could have sworn he’d know something, Laure.” Daine almost sounded a little scared, which was understandable considering the glare Laure’d settled on him. Shiloh almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

 

Laure launched into a tirade, most of which Shiloh ignored in favor of trying to work his hands out of the thin rope that was binding them. Unfortunately, it was too tight, and only ended in him rubbing the skin until the unmistakeable slickness of blood made the movements a little easier. Realizing he’d rubbed through the skin, he stopped, but it didn’t stop the twinge of discomfort from following the notion. If he couldn’t feel pain, how was he supposed to protect himself?

 

He was abruptly yanked from his thoughts by a rather livid looking Daine, whose gold eyes were narrowed on him. “You couldn’t have just  _ lied _ ?” He hissed, disbelief lacing his tone. Shiloh’s eyebrows drew together against his will. “What do you  _ want  _ from me? I thought if I told the truth you guys would let me go faster. I was just minding my own business before  _ you  _ showed up, you know.” He tried to put as much venom as possible into his voice, but it wasn’t much. His hunger and the exhaustion clinging to his bones wasn’t helping him.

 

Daine was about to answer, but Laure’s voice cut in. “You heard me, Daine. If he doesn’t know anything, he’s a liability. Get rid of him before the girls come back. We don’t have the resources to keep him and he doesn’t have any useful information. He’s literally useless.” His tone was too calm, and Daine turned to frown at him.

 

“What’s the point? We could just let him go. He’ll respawn anyways. He already knows our names and stuff, it’s not like respawning wipes your memories or anything.” He reached up to scratch an itch on the side of his neck, stiffening a little when Laure actually laughed.

 

“It won’t get rid of him, but it’ll make me feel better. Besides, we don’t know where he’ll respawn, but it won’t be here. We’ll be gone by the time he gets back and he won’t be able to lead anyone to us.” 

 

Shiloh decided at that moment he was tired of other people deciding his fate for him. “Look, I won’t tell anyone who or where you are, okay? I just wanna get to the nearest village and maybe have a snack. That’s it. I don’t care who you are or what you did or any of that. You’re just a bunch of goons and I really don’t give a shit about turning you in.” He insisted, wings shifting restlessly behind him. Laure turned an appraising eye on him, but it wasn’t a friendly look. Shiloh ducked his head a little in nervousness.

 

“I can’t take you on your word. I don’t even know you. Besides, I want the satisfaction of watching you hit the water after a two hundred foot drop.” The smile that stretched across his face ruined any of Shiloh’s previous thoughts about him being pretty. He wasn’t pretty. He was  _ hideous _ .

 

And crazy, if he thought Shiloh was just going to let him do this. The aethen surged to his feet, nearly toppling over when his hands remained bound. It didn’t stop him, though, and he hurtled past both Laure and Daine on his way into the woods. Only one set of footsteps followed him, and he didn’t have to turn to know it was Laure. It almost seemed like he would escape, but a body collided harshly with his and knocked him right to the ground. 

 

A grunt left him when that familiar boot pressed into his back, right between his wings. “You didn’t seriously think that would work, did you? God, you aethens are all the same. Stupid and all kinds of  _ pathetic _ .” He spat the last word, before removing his boot and reaching down to grab the back of Shiloh’s shirt, hauling him up. “It’s gonna be fun watching you fall, I haven’t had a good pvp kill in a while and you  _ really  _ grate on my nerves.” He hissed, sounding a little too pleased with himself.

 

Shiloh immediately struggled, kicking backwards and wriggling around with every ounce of strength he had. It didn’t seem to do much good; Laure was much taller and stronger, and had no trouble holding him out at arm’s length and beginning to carry him even farther away from camp. “I should have just let you run, you could have done the job for me and I wouldn’t have to carry you all the way there.” He huffed, but his tone was abnormally light. Shiloh stilled, his ears burning a little from embarrassment. It wasn’t  _ his  _ fault he had no idea where anything was or where to go. 

 

He felt like he should be doing more to get away, but the exhaustion from hunger and the poor quality sleep he’d obtained the night before were weighing on him, and struggling was sapping energy he didn’t have. Maybe he  _ should  _ just let Laure toss him over the cliff, and if he was lucky, he’d respawn inside a city or something. Of course, thinking and feeling were two different things, and he was still quite terrified of experiencing death, even if it was a game.

 

He let himself relax until the cliff appeared in the distance, and only then did he begin to panic. “Are you sure you wanna do this? I mean, do you  _ really  _ want my suffering on your conscience?” He knew it was a stupid question, but maybe he’d get lucky and Laure would at least second guess himself.

 

Laure just stared at him. “I wouldn’t try appealing to my better nature if I were you. I’ve killed NPCs shrimpier than you are, and they  _ don’t  _ respawn.” He said, smirking crookedly as he came up on the drop. He held Shiloh out over the water, surveying the distance himself as if considering his options. It was a cruel tactic and had Shiloh squirming in an attempt to land at least one foot on the cliff edge. It was pointless, of course, because he’d never be able to balance himself with his arms tied behind his back.

 

“Please don’t do this. I really don’t want my first in-game death to be at the hands of a complete jerk who doesn’t know his face from his ass--” mistake. Shiloh’s words were cut off with an undignified squawk when Laure’s hand ‘accidentally’ lost it’s grip. He heard a vague ‘oops’ shouted above him, and had just enough time to curse before the absolute terror that usually came with falling to one’s death finally sank in. He let out an embarrassingly high-pitched screech and his insides turned to stone in his gut.

 

The mist was thick below him, but he knew that somewhere on the other side was vast, unyielding water. He wasn’t sure if it was the air rushing past him, the fear, or the hunger, but before he could even make impact, he could feel his body shutting down. The mist greeted him head on just as unconsciousness took him, and he didn’t feel it when he hit the water. He sank through the surface, uncaring and unaware as something large brushed against him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shiloh's not as dead as he thought he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SURPRISE BITCHES BET U THOUGHT U SAW THE LAST OF ME  
> no but actually I'm sorry this took so long. I don't know how frequent any further updates will be, as I've got a pretty hectic job right now and I've had a lot of trouble getting anything else done. But there WILL be further chapters, no worries. I intend to finish this, though it may take quite a while. Hang in there, my dudes!

For the longest time, Shiloh was surrounded in darkness. He felt as though he were dreaming, but he was hyper-aware of himself. Was this death? He couldn't help but feel uneasy. He was just floating along, not really interacting with anything. He couldn't even see his own body!

 

He wondered how much longer he'd be stuck like this, but then he heard something – it sounded like.. a voice? It was very faint, and he strained to find out what direction it was coming from. It didn't seem to matter; the voice was finding _him_ , coming closer and closer, until he could make out some of the words.

 

“ _...kid... catch his death.... minds? ….a criminal, he.... yeah._ Kid. Hey, kid. Are you awake?”

 

Shiloh tried to make a noise in response, because who else could they be talking to? “Hrruah?” He became aware of just how crappy he felt – even if there wasn't any pain, all of his limbs and his throat felt _sick,_ kind of like he had an awful infection. Except, way worse. The guy leaning over him – were those cat ears? – was still shooting questions in his direction, until a girl behind him tugged him back.

 

“Jesus, Myrne, give him some space! He's just come to!” She berated him, or at least, Shiloh thought that's what she did. His mind was still foggy.

 

“Where am I?” He asked, blinking hard and trying to force himself into a sitting position. It was difficult; his entire body felt weak and heavy. Both of them glanced at him; sizing him up, he thought. _‘I could totally take them if I had to! ...If I didn't feel like crap.’_ He decided that maybe it wasn't the best time to try and start something.

 

His paranoid thoughts clearly didn't make it out of his mind, because the girl moved closer to him and sat down on the edge of what he then realized was a cot. “You're on our ship, headed to Thame. We saw you fall into the water from the cliff. What were you thinking, man? You should be dead. You're lucky that Myrne's summon was able to get you out of the water.” She sounded in complete awe of his current living status, and he realized that it probably _had_ looked like he should be dead.

 

“Oh, I didn't jump. I was thrown. I... pissed off a couple of guys who broke into _my_ hideout. It's their fault for breaking in.” Shiloh grumbled, crossing his arms and immediately wincing afterward due to the extreme discomfort that came with the action.

 

“Hey! Don't move like that, we don't even know if you broke anything. I patched you up as best I could, but there's only so much I can do. I'm not a healer. You got a name? I'm Ari, and the angry cat over there is Myrne. Are you a sleeper?” She flipped her long cerulean hair behind her shoulder.

 

Shiloh blinked. “....Oh! Yeah. I'm Shiloh. Uh. Fenix. What's a sleeper? The villagers called me that, but what's it mean?” The absolute confusion in his voice was apparently enough of an answer for her, because she laughed.

 

“Well, if you have to ask, then you are. A sleeper is a player. That's how they explain players here; people who wake up with no memories and all that. But be careful talking about game lingo. Our captain is an NPC and he's part of our group. He's great though. He's the one who told us we should rescue you.” Her voice turned fond, and Shiloh wondered momentarily what kind of NPC was cool enough to get a couple of players to travel with him.

 

“He's not _that_ great. He's just a show off. You only like him because he's good with a sword.” Myrne sniffed, though his complaints didn't sound all too sincere. Shiloh stared at him, trying to work out how in the world he was a player with cat ears. Were there more races than the one he’d been offered? How come _he_ didn't get to be a cat?

 

He decided to file that information away for later. “He sounds like a good guy. Sorry for the questions, I only started the game last night. Um, in-game time. Not out of game. I think my character assistant mentioned a time difference, but I wasn't listening all that much.” He felt his ears heating in response to his own shame; he probably seemed like an airhead.

 

Ari laughed at that, smoothing out the blanket next to her. “Don't worry about it little dude. We'll help you figure things out.” She seemed pretty confident about it, and what little unease Shiloh still felt seeped out. His stomach chose that moment to let out an awful gurgle; he was reminded that he hadn't eaten since early that morning in the real world. _‘Does that even affect my in-game body?’_ He wondered idly.

 

“Oh jeez. Sorry 'bout that.” He mumbled, feeling his wings curl against his back in embarrassment. “You guys wouldn't happen to have food somewhere on this boat, would you?” He tried not to sound too hopeful.

 

Ari looked like she was about to reply, but at that moment, a man descended the stairs into the room they were currently in. He was very tall; his pointed ears made Shiloh think he had to be some kind of Elf. His long, wine-colored hair was tied back away from his face, which held a bemused expression.

 

“He's awake! Get the kid some food, would you Myrne?” He asked, moving to sit at the small table where Myrne had taken refuge. The cat-man rolled his eyes, but got up and left anyways, muttering under his breath. Once he was gone, the guy turned to look at Shiloh, eyes narrowing. “Tell me, kid, how did you manage to fall off of Callum's Cliff?” He asked, leaning his elbows on the table without breaking eye contact.

 

Shiloh felt a not-unpleasant chill run up his spine. The man was undeniably good looking. “I...” He blinked, before shaking his head. Focus! “I was tossed. I pissed off a couple of goons and they wanted to get rid of me. I think they were wanted or something, because one of them mentioned I'd seen their faces.” He tried to keep his tone as neutral as possible, but it was obvious that Ari saw right through him, if her smirk was any indication. Clearly, he wasn’t the first to be thrown off by the captain’s dashing good looks, and probably wouldn’t be the last.

 

The captain seemed to take in his explanation and surveyed him with curious eyes, as if trying to puzzle something out. Finally, he relaxed against the back of the chair and threw an arm over it. “Well, we could always use another crew member. Judging from where _we_ are and _what_ you are, you probably don’t have anywhere to be. Am I right?” He asked, before seeming to remember something. “Oh, right. Where are my manners? I’m Vale Ardentshore. You can call me Captain or Vale. ‘Shithead’ is reserved for Myrne.” He flashed a wicked grin as the aforementioned man returned with a tray of food.

 

Shiloh moved so that he was able to sit up properly, before giving the captain a nod. “Nice to meet you. My name’s Shiloh, and... I really don’t have anywhere to be. Or go. I’m kinda... lost.” He lowered his head a little, unsure of why that made him feel as lame as it did. What was wrong with having no direction in a new world? He didn’t get long to dwell on it, because Myrne was there and shoving the tray into his lap with all the grace of an elephant seal. “Don’t expect any freebies, I’m putting you to work as soon as you can move again, shrimp.” He grouched, before turning and passing Vale to head up the stairs. “Call me when he’s useful.” He said, before ascending the stairs and leaving out of the only door leading in.

 

A chuckle broke the silence, and Shiloh turned to look at Vale, who was grinning. “I think he likes you. He might seem like a jerk, but he’s really loyal. If he hasn’t voted you off the boat yet, you’re probably safe. Unless you do something to change his mind. Like not eating the food he cooked.” His grin widened, if possible, and Shiloh glanced down at the tray with new-found appreciation. It _smelled_ good, much better than anything he’d eaten in the real world.

 

Ari huffed, stealing a roll off of the tray and biting into it. “Just ignore him, he’s a cactus with kitty ears.” She rolled her eyes, before rising from the bed and stretching, pacing across the room to a chest and digging through it. “I’ll find you some proper boots and a cloak. You’re gonna need it, the nights here can get really chilly.” Shiloh thanked her, before his stomach growled and he was once again reminded of the food in his lap. He cautiously picked up a glazed tart-looking thing, and took a bite out of it.

 

The reaction was instantaneous; his wings fluttered excitedly against his permission, and he made a rather inelegant noise. “Wow this is _really_ good!” He blurted, unable to stop himself. He hadn’t expected it to taste so _different_ from the stuff in the real world.

 

There was a soft _thwump_ as Ari set down a pair of brown boots and an emerald green cloak on top of the bedspread. “Don’t worry about it, I reacted the same way the first time I ate the food here. It’s… very good. Comparatively.” She said, dropping down to sit next to Shiloh and folding her arms.

 

Shiloh shot a somewhat questioning look at Vale following the words, before turning the look on Ari. It was slightly accusatory.  She seemed confused for a moment, before a look of realization dawned across her face. “Oh!” she said out loud, before uncrossing her arms. “It’s alright; Vale knows we came from somewhere else. He knows we go back when we sleep. We’ve all seen a lot of crazy stuff; it isn’t that hard for him to believe, you know.” She said, gesturing to the man in question.

 

To his credit, Vale didn’t seem to mind being spoken about as if he wasn’t there. He was still the picture of relaxed interest, now with his feet resting on the seat of the chair across from him. “She said you guys come from a different dimension that doesn’t have magic. Seems a little boring, if you ask me. It’s no wonder so many of you end up here; I’d probably go looking for another universe too, if it meant getting away from a place with so little freedom and excitement. It’s good to have you aboard, Shiloh. Make yourself comfortable; we aren’t gonna make land for another fortnight at least.” He said, before moving to rise from his chair.

 

“I’m going to see if Myrne needs any help. Ari, I need you to help me with some… cartography business when you’re done here. Make sure he’s got everything he needs.” He said, tipping his head towards Shiloh before disappearing up the stairs.

 

“How much does he know, exactly?” Shiloh asked, once he was gone. He continued picking at his food, tasting bits of everything and shoving the things he didn’t like to the outside of the tray. Ari made a thoughtful noise, idly braiding the tips of her cerulean hair.

 

“He doesn’t know this is a game. As far as he’s concerned, we’re visitors from another universe, and we can hop between places at will. He knows we don’t die, he knows that most of us start out ignorant to literally everything there is to know here. Magic, culture, politics, all that. He’s been helping Myrne and I with the basics. I’m sure he’ll help you too, if you ask. It gets really embarrassing and dangerous if you don’t know enough about certain races and cities. But I’ve been playing for a while, so if you ever have any questions, I can try to answer you. If I don’t have an answer, Vale probably does. He’s lived here his whole life, after all. He’s like a little FAQ bank.” She grinned, stealing the last roll and standing from the bed.

 

“I should probably go and get started… I navigate and fill out maps for Vale. So I should help before we end up getting lost or something. There’s a washroom if you go upstairs and take a left. Second door. The second set of stairs leads up to the deck, and you should be able to find at least one of us if you go up there. But take it easy for now. You fell pretty hard and none of us really know the extent of your injuries.” She gave him a stern look before turning and heading up the stairs. “See ya later!”

 

There was a click as the door closed, and Shiloh set his food on the bedside table before flopping back onto the bed. He felt alright, but he knew that was deceptive; he’d rubbed the skin off his wrists before and hadn’t even felt it. Remembering this, he looked down to find them bandaged. There were a few other places that had been patched up, but he didn’t know what for. No bones seemed to be broken, which he thought to be a miracle, considering his racial flaws. It occurred to him it might have had something to do with him _passing out_ before ever even reaching the water. _‘How embarrassing…’_

 

There was nothing for it. Shiloh sighed before gingerly moving to raise from the bed, trying to take note if anything felt off. He did a thorough once-over, finding that both wrists and his ribs had been bandaged. The second one gave him pause, and an overwhelming sense of anxiety washed over him. Ari had been the one to patch him up, but she hadn’t said anything about the binding wrapped around his chest. Was she being polite, or had she assumed it was an injury of some sort? He reluctantly forced himself to check everything else over, shoving the thoughts to the back of his mind.

 

It was several minutes before he was finished with his self-checkup, and he went ahead and washed his face and hands with clean water. The stickiness of salt lingered everywhere else, but he decided to leave it until later. He wanted to explore -- it wasn’t every day that he found himself on a real ship, after all.

 

He re-dressed and ventured out of the washroom, finding the second set of stairs. Just how deep did this ship go, exactly? He kept an eye out for anything that might be interesting, but didn’t see much on his way to the deck.

 

The change in atmosphere was like night and day; the cool, dusty darkness of the cabin was destroyed as Shiloh pushed the door open, greeted by the warmth of the mid-day sun and the smell of brine and something faintly sweet. He took a deep breath and reveled in the warmth for a brief moment, but eventually went in search of.. Well, anyone. He still wasn’t sure who he should be talking to first.

 

 _It’s hard to think of it like an MMO… there aren’t exactly people standing around with exclamation points above their heads._ He looked around anyways, just to be sure. Nothing so far had been even remotely RPG-like, aside from the strong fantasy element of the world around him. He had _wings_ , for god’s sake. But there didn’t seem to be any linear questing system. How was he supposed to get exp? Were there even monsters in this game?

 

He was so busy thinking that he didn’t even notice Myrne until he was literally face-to-chest with the man. He was quickly caught and pushed out to arm's’ length, the victim of a rather vicious scowl from the resident cat.

 

“Watch where you’re going, punk. Are you ready to pay me back for saving your life?” He leaned closer, and a slight chill ran down Shiloh’s spine; had the air gotten colder, or was Myrne simply that menacing? “I’ve got _tons_ of work you can do.”

 

Oh, no. _He was a cabin boy now._


End file.
